


sometimes the world begins

by mozartspiano



Series: five days in july [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, cottages, summer loving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 06:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20353894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozartspiano/pseuds/mozartspiano
Summary: Kyle is headed up to his family cottage outside Sault Ste. Marie for a couple days. William joins him.





	sometimes the world begins

**Author's Note:**

> title is from _5 days in may_ by blue rodeo off the album _5 days in july_ which is arguably the only album anyone, ever, needs to listen to.

They stop at an OnRoute just south of Barrie because William is starving and Kyle's right knee is already starting to jam up.

"Oooh," William says as Kyle locks the car doors. "They have Pizza Pizza."

"It's eight a.m.," Kyle says. He's holding his travel mug because he cares about the environment and there's a Timmies here. 

"I'll get one with veggies," William says. "Spinach, even."

"William," Kyle says. It's the third time he's said that, in that tone, since they left Toronto as the sun was rising. William grins. 

There's a line at Tim Hortons so they stand and wait together, two assholes with baseball caps pulled down low enough that they won't be recognized. William forgot his glasses in the car and squints at the sandwich board. 

"I wonder if they have the sun dried tomato bagels here," Kyle says, absently, peering around the line to see behind the counters. 

"Where's the next place with food?" William asks. "Like, ballpark."

The line moves forward. Kyle's got his arms across his chest, staring forward, as he says: "We probably won't stop until Espanola. They have - like, a Subway. A Timmies."

"Jesus," William says and Kyle meets his eye. "What is this country."

Kyle snorts. It's horrifically unattractive. 

The climb back into Kyle's sedan is jumbled. William navigates the brown paper bag holding his three sandwiches and Kyle's bagel between his knees. Kyle shuffles loose change out of his cupholder to put William's iced cappuccino down. 

"Here are your overpriced snacks," Kyle says, lifting the plastic bag over the gear shift and dropping them unceremoniously into William's lap. William shifts them between his legs too, where he already has a little backpack and his water bottle and a sweater. 

He reaches into the bag: "And here is your bagel."

"Thank you," Kyle says. He unwraps it weird, folding the parchment paper over so he can make a little sandwich. "You good?"

He looks over as he says it, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding his bagel. He looks like someone William has known for awhile but also someone he is just getting to know. 

"Yeah," William says. "Yeah, let me just-"

William leans over, gets his mouth right up against Kyle's. He kisses him quick, just a soft thing, because they're still new at this. Their glasses clink against each other. Kyle lets go of the steering wheel to grip at William's shoulder, long fingers over cotton and the thin skin of his collarbone.

"Just that," William says, when he pulls away. He doesn't go too far, leaned awkwardly as he is over the gear shift. "Just kinda wanted to do that."

Kyle smiles, mostly with his eyes. 

"How far away is that town you mentioned?" William asks, quiet. 

"Four hours," Kyle says. "Give or take."

"Why are you from the literal middle of nowhere," William says. Kyle laughs, moves his face away to start the car. William stays where he is and continues: "Why didn't we fly? I'm going to die."

"It's going to be an experience, William," Kyle says. He looks over his shoulder as he pulls out of the parking spot. "It's all about the process."

"Oh fuck off," William says, laughing.

Kappy thought it was a horrible idea. 

"This is a horrible idea," he said over Skype as he watched William pack. "You've lost your fucking mind."

"Shut up," William said. "It's a great idea. You're a horrible idea. Go away."

"You're going to be miles away from civilization," Kappy said. "What if you don't have cell service? What if you get eaten by a bear? Literally no one would know until the season started and you both don't show up."

"It'll be fine," William said. "Which trunks?"

"The blue ones," Kappy said.

"I like him," William said folding his blue swimming trunks into a little square. "Like, a lot. And have liked him. For like, a long time now."

Kappy sighed. 

"And this will be a good trip," William said. "It'll be romantic. And I'm going to suntan and go swimming and eat s'mores. It's gonna be amazing and you're just jealous."

"Willy," Kappy said. "It's a cottage in Northern Ontario. The water is going to be so fucking cold your dick is going to fall off."

"Don't worry about my dick, weirdo," William said. "Kyle will worry about my dick. Worry about your own dick."

"You're a dick," Kappy said which, weak, and then: "Call me if you need to be emergency airlifted out of there. I have connections."

They get to the family cottage as the sun is setting, flashes of orange across the sky reflecting off the dark purple of the lake. It's smaller than William was expecting, a wooden cabin with a wide porch wrapped around it, surrounded by tall pine trees.

Kyle turns the ignition off. It's quiet for the hum of cicadas outside the car. 

"Home sweet home," Kyle says, dry. 

It's cool outside. The ground is springy under William's sandals, littered with orange pine needles. He looks straight up and can only just see the sky. 

"Do you regret saying yes, yet?" Kyle asks, standing next to William. 

"My answer is pretty dependent on whether or not that barbecue works," William says and Kyle laughs, loud.

The cabin is small and quiet. William follows Kyle, puts his duffel bag on the double bed in the room next to the kitchen. There's a homemade quilt over the bed with red and white squares. There are photos all over the walls, some doubles of the ones that don the walls of Kyle's office in Toronto. 

"Cozy," William says, light.

"When a bunch of us are up at the same time it can get pretty crowded," Kyle says. "The couch gets claimed early, so I usually end up in a tent outside."

They drag the cooler in and stuff the contents into the heavy-breathing fridge. Kyle grabs two beers and leads William out the backdoor to the porch overlooking a small patch of green, a steep staircase down, and the wide expanse of water.

"We can take the canoe out tomorrow," Kyle says, pointing to it. "If you want."

"I want," William says. "Sounds like fun."

Kyle digs them out a few afghans and citronella candles from the small closet in the bedroom. William arranges a nest of blankets on the porch seat while Kyle lights the barbecue, starts their burgers. He joins William eventually, his shoulder brushing William's as he sits. William watches him take a swig of his Molson Canadian. 

"I like it here," William says. 

Kyle puts his arm around William's shoulders, slow but not hesitant. William squirms closer to him. "I'm glad."

It's quiet. William can just hear the sound of the lake below them and the buzz of mosquitos. He takes a slow drink out of his own beer.

"I guess it's going to be a few cheat days," William says, looking over to Kyle as he does. 

Kyle smiles out, profile just visible against the darkness. 

They eat the burgers inside because it's too dark and the bugs love William, bite his ankles until they're poxed. The kitchen is small, four chairs crowded around a rickety wooden table, so Kyle sets them down on the couch. 

"Did you guys come here a lot?" William asks. He has to sit hunched over his plate so he doesn't spill everywhere. 

"Pretty often in the summer when I was growing up," Kyle says. His burger is as overflowing as William's, because since their road trip snacks ran out they've both been a bit cranky. "Less, obviously, when I moved to St. Cats."

William nods. "Makes sense."

"Do you guys have a cottage?" Kyle asks. "Is that a thing in Sweden?"

"My grandfather does," William says. "But our house is on the water, so it's not really the same. Still nice to visit though."

Kyle is looking at him, listening to him. He has these big brown eyes that go lighter in the middle and sometimes William gets flushed, when Kyle's listening like he doesn't have anywhere else to be, like he wants to hear what William has to say.

"So," William says, hoping his blush isn't obvious. "What do you do for fun around here without internet?"

Kyle laughs. William doesn't think he's ever met someone he likes to make laugh more than Kyle. 

They had only kissed eight times when William asked. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he said, mouth pressed up against Kyle's throat. They were in the lobby of William's building, near the elevators, saying goodbye after their third date. "Do you want to do something? I could come over."

"I'm actually headed up to the Soo for a couple of days," Kyle said. "Family cottage."

"Oh," William said. He pulled back so he could meet Kyle's eye. "Like a reunion thing?"

Kyle shook his head. "I was supposed to go up with my brother-in-law, but he backed out on Wednesday. So just me, I'm afraid. I'll probably drop in on my grandparents on the way home."

His hand was on the small of William's back, his other hand holding William's hand. It felt romantic in a way William's not sure he's ever experienced. He likes it a lot, the fluttery feeling in his stomach when Kyle's fingers curl against his as they kiss. 

"Can I come?" William asked, before he quite knew what he was saying.

"Oh," Kyle said. 

"Sorry," William said. "That was weird."

"No, no," Kyle said. "If you want?"

"I don't want to crash your thing," William said even though he did. He thought about hammocks and boats and a whole cottage to be able to hold Kyle's hand in. And other things. "Don't worry about me."

"It's a long drive," Kyle said. "I wouldn't mind company."

"No, really, it's okay." William said. He looked down at their feet, William's loafers and Kyle's oxfords. 

It had been pockets of time, up to this point. William doesn't have a journal or something like that, but he carefully marked the time and address of all their dates on his phone's calendar; from the park near Kyle's house at lunchtime to the late night ice cream place at St. Clair to dinner, that night, a candle between them on the table and a barely-heated conversation about Premier League. 

"No, really," Kyle said back. "I'd like for you to come. If you want."

William did want. William wanted even when Kyle told him how long the drive was and how early he was planning on leaving, his hand still in William's, his smile soft in the muted lighting of William's lobby.

It's unfamiliar, to climb into bed together. The bed is small but it feels huge when William curls up on his side to look at Kyle across the pillows, his face different without his glasses and in the dark. 

"Hi," William says, quiet like the night. 

"Hi," Kyle says, and then they are kissing.

Kyle's hands are cool under William's shirt, shifting over the skin and bone of William's back, his shoulder blades. His heartbeat is steady where William's hand rests, against the worn cotton of his shirt, over his warm chest. William's other hand curls around Kyle's jaw, holds him where he wants him as William places kiss after kiss against his mouth. 

William loses his breath somewhere between them when Kyle's thumb drags down his spine. 

"You're so warm," Kyle whispers into William's mouth. 

William closes his eyes even though it's dark, so he can hear better: their skin against the fleece sheets, the clink of their teeth, the noise William doesn't mean to make, soft and shaky, when Kyle's mouth sucks down his neck. 

"That feels good," William hears himself whisper. 

"Good," Kyle says, kissing the hollows of William's throat. 

William lets his hand slide down Kyle's chest to the drawstring of his pyjama bottoms. They're tartan and adorable and soft when William slides their legs together. His fingers pick at the drawstrings and this time Kyle makes a noise, low, against William's skin. 

"Do you want to?" William asks.

Kyle's left hand slips out from under William's shirt, slides into his hair instead. He asks, "do you?"

William puts his palm flat against Kyle's stomach. Kyle's fingers push at the small of his back, bringing them closer together, William's knee hooked over Kyle's thigh. 

"We don't have to," Kyle says, after a few seconds.

"I want to," William says, because it's the truth. He doesn't know why he's hesitating. He feels young, maybe, being in this place he's never been with someone he never thought he could hold like this. 

Kyle's thumb traces the curved bone of William's ear.  "We've got tomorrow," he says, "and I'm pretty tired."

"Oh," William says. He lets his hand drift to Kyle's ribs, feels him breathe for a few moments, up and down. "I'm tired too."

"So let's just keep doing this," Kyle says, mouth warm on William's cheek, "until we fall asleep."

_Do you want to get ice cream_? Kyle texted at 10pm on Monday night, when William was watching _Queer Eye_ and hoping Kyle would text. He made himself wait a whole minute before he responded because he was young and cool and for all Kyle knew he could totally have had plans on a Monday night at 10pm.

_Yeah_, William texted back and twenty minutes later he was sliding into the passenger seat of Kyle's car. 

It was all so so new. William had never been in Kyle's car. He couldn't have imagined what it would be like to watch him wait at a red light or turn his head before making a right turn or fiddle with the air conditioning when William said he was getting cold. 

"What is this music?" William asked, half in a dream, his head turned toward Kyle. 

Kyle raised an eyebrow at him, said, "You don't know Van Morrison?" and reached to turn it up louder. It was something cheerful, background singers and a smooth voice.

"I like it," William said and Kyle smiled.

There was a line at _Dutch Dreams_ and as they waited they talked. 

"He's excited, yeah," William said, looking at the couple ahead of them instead of at Kyle. William is always aware of himself in ways he's not used to, when he's with Kyle. He found himself wanting to sound smarter, more interesting. "We lived in Chicago when we were kids, so he still has some friends there. And it'll be good for him, you know, a new roster to crack."

"You'll miss him though, eh?"

"Yeah." William let himself sway into Kyle's space. "Yeah, I'll miss having him so close."

Kyle got cookie dough and William mango, both with a high tower of whipped cream and fruit on top. They sat on the hood of Kyle's car to eat, watching the lineup and planes across the dark sky.

"Thank you," William said, "for taking me here."

Kyle said, "I like taking you places."

Mango and cookie dough do not taste good together, not even when they're mixed with a kiss on a humid night. William couldn't really give a shit.

The morning is bright. Kyle is a blanket stealer and William watches him sleep, curled up as he is, while carefully sitting up. 

Outside the water is shimmering, glossy from the rising sun where the dock splits it in two. William shifts his bones as he passes through the kitchen to the bathroom, rising his hands to the short ceiling. He splashes his face with water after he pees, looks at himself in the mirror. He has a mosquito bite on his cheek, pink, and a mulberry bruise over the column of his throat. 

Kyle's still asleep when he slips back into bed. 

William, nerves from last night a tight coil in his belly, climbs over him and puts his mouth near where Kyle's ear slopes into his neck. 

"Mmph," Kyle says, as if speaking through cotton balls. William giggles, wet, and drags his teeth over the fragile parts of Kyle's ear. "Good morning," Kyle says, sleepy.

"Morning," William says. 

They become a tangle of sheets and bodies, Kyle twisting so they can kiss, the heavy afghan falling onto the floor next to them. It's too hot, way too hot, Kyle's skin sleep warm under William's hands when they press together. 

"Great morning," Kyle says, more awake, and William laughs harder, one hand sneaking down Kyle's tartan pyjamas. 

William, if he had allowed himself to imagine this, would have expected romance or desperation, something filthy or gentle. 

It wouldn't have been this: his shirt rucked up to his neck, legs trapped in old family sheets, Kyle's thumb circling around his cock dragging him under. He comes laughing, warm from hot breath in a small room and the sun through the curtains, Kyle's lips at the creases around his eye.

It wouldn't have been Kyle pulling back to ask, "Are you okay? You're shaking," and William having to kiss him quiet because he is and he can't stop and he doesn't know what else to do but touch with trembling fingers until they both are. 

After, they make sausages and bacon and bagels for a late breakfast over the barbecue.

William feels weirdly tender, curled up on the porch seat with a mug of coffee. The mug says _14th __Sault Ste. Marie Girl Guides _and he sips from it while sneaking looks at Kyle, standing near the barbecue with a spatula in his hand. It's weird to see him here. It's weird to see him anywhere that isn't the rink or his office.

"We can go out on the lake," Kyle says, as he puts their food out on two dishes. "The water's so still."

"Will you put sunscreen on my back for me?" William asks, fluttering his eyelashes, and Kyle laughs. 

The steps down to the dock are steep and old but Kyle is practiced, small cooler in one hand, baseball hat twisted backwards on his head. William watches him and teeters slowly downward, tasked with pool noodles and a bag of ketchup chips. 

"Alright," Kyle says after he's arranged a chair for himself and the cooler and gotten everything set up. He sits down in the muskoka chair and holds out the sunscreen they found in one of the kitchen cupboards. "Get over here."

William grins, strips his shirt off. He sits in front of Kyle, on the dock, and closes his eyes against the sun as Kyle rubs SPF 30 over his back. There's something familiar about it and something so new. William slides his fingers around Kyle's ankle next to him, just because he can.

"Tip your head back?" William does. Kyle's fingers draw a line down his nose, over his cheeks, smooth over the tips of his ears with sunscreen until William can feel himself all greasy.  "All done."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

He stands, shakes out a towel. It has Tweety Bird on it and, according to Kyle, has lived in the cottage's closet since the eighties. "Gonna get my tan on. Wanna join?"

William can't see Kyle's eyes as he peers up at him through his sunglasses. He brought a paperback down with him and he shakes it then, cracking the spine, to say, "I've been meaning to read this since the Draft. I'm finally going to do it today."

"You're such a nerd," William says, grinning. 

He lays out along the dock on his stomach, one arm under his cheek, and goes hazy in the warmth of the sun. Kyle brought down a little speaker and the music is quiet, something folksy, something William wouldn't listen to usually. It's right, though, for this moment. 

"This is nice," William says. 

"Not sick of lying around yet, this summer?" Kyle asks.

"I love lying around," William says. He opens his eyes to watch Kyle take a pull of his beer. "Summer's should just be lying around in the sun and eating ice cream and having campfires."

"You've got my vote," Kyle says. 

William sleeps for a bit, out on the dock, and when he wakes up Kyle has a new beer opened and he's a third of the way through his book. William stretches, rolls his shoulders until they crack and sits up. 

The water is warm at the surface and cool further down when William dangles his feet in. He says, soft to match the day and the warmth, "If I jump in will you join me?" 

William turns his head to look at Kyle. Kyle's already looking at him, book split in half over the chair's arm, and says, "Depends how cold it is."

He dives in, regrets it a bit when algae swirls around his torso. When he emerges Kyle's standing on the dock, watching him.

"Come in," William says. He does the egg-beater kicks he was taught in a swimming pool in a suburb of Boston, the few months they lived there when he was young. "It's nice, I promise."

Kyle slides in from the edge of the dock. He keeps his sunglasses perched on his nose but comes towards William with two noodles. 

"I came up here for the May two-four," Kyle says, floating, "and almost died of hypothermia. The water was fucking freezing."

"Aren't you supposed to be a Canadian?" William says. "I thought Canadians didn't complain about the cold. I thought y'all were born of the ice or some shit."

"You would know," Kyle says. He passes William a pool noodle and under the water his knee brushes against William's. "Being a Canadian yourself."

William flicks water at Kyle, says, "Anyways, you should have come to the French Riviera with me. It was toasty."

"If I would've gotten an invite, maybe," Kyle says. "Alas, I received nothing."

"Fine," William says, grinning,arms under a pink pool noodle. "This is a blanket invitation for any time I go to the French Riviera. I will save you a chair by the pool."

Kyle says, "So generous," and then moves closer so they can share the same circle of water, can kiss as they bob up and down. Kyle's mouth is cool and tastes like beer and William would have ditched France to have been here in May, to have frozen his dick off in a lake with Kyle and kiss him like this. 

"You taste like sunscreen," Kyle says into William's mouth. "Like really gross, expired sunscreen."

"Mmm, yeah," William says, "talk dirty to me, baby."

Kyle throws his head back to laugh and William presses his smile against his shoulder, arms around his neck. He hangs on, listens to Kyle's laugh skirt over the lake like the water striders, and breathes.

It's not a story with a lot of drama. William sort of always looked at Kyle and thought about maybes and some days. He thought he wasn't getting looked back at until he realized he was and then it was like jumping off into the deep end. Scary, maybe, but easy. 

Kyle said, after they hung out for the first time in the little park near his house while sat in a row on a bench facing south, "I'm glad you said something."

And William asked, "Why didn't you?" because he didn't mind being the move-maker but it didn't seem Kyle's style, really. 

"I wasn't ever going to ask you out," Kyle said. "I mean, not with our working relationship and the age gap."

"That stuff doesn't matter to me," William said. 

Kyle said, "But it does matter, so."

They didn't kiss on the park bench because there were screaming six year olds a few metres away but they did, after, when William followed Kyle back to his home. He got pressed up against the side of his car in Kyle's driveway, Kyle's hands on his hips, and they kissed, twice, before William drove away.

It gets cool before it gets dark. William borrows a sweater from the dresser in the small bedroom and pulls it over his stomach. It's the white and red of the Greyhounds with 1993 blazoned underneath the logo and William runs his hand over it once. There's a hole in the cuff and William slides his thumb through it, feels small and somehow bigger than himself all at once.

Kyle is standing, drinking a beer and looking out at the water when William goes back out. He lets William cuddle close, puts an arm around him. 

"Okay?" Kyle asks.

"Mhm," William says. Everything feels heavy and light at the same time, fragile. "What's for dinner?"

"Baked potatoes," Kyle says. His free hand is high up on William's back, rubbing small circles. "And salmon I picked up at Loblaws for a truly ridiculous price."

"We should have gone fishing," William says. "Could have caught our own dinner and taken a picture of it like proper Canadian boys."

"I don't really fish," Kyle says. "Do you?"

"No," William says. "But it can't be that hard."

William drags Kyle down the steps and back out onto the dock to eat so they can watch the sun set over the lake. He sits sideways, one leg under the other and one toe in the water, so he can watch Kyle grumble as he sits down.

He says, "I'm too old for this I'll have you know," and William says, "Shush and enjoy your dinner, grandpa."

The Loblaws salmon is just fine, crispy on the edges and covered in lemon and dill. The water is still, even more so then this morning, and it seems like it would be smooth to touch, a great swath of silk. 

"Don't know if I want to leave tomorrow," William says, after awhile. 

"We don't have to leave until late in the afternoon," Kyle says, "We can even canoe if you still feel up to it."

"It's just like," William starts and then stops. "I don't know."

Kyle forks at a piece of William's fish, steals it off his plate and pops it in his mouth. He says, "It's nice up here."

William nods, pulls the sweater cuffs over his fingers. "Everything becomes real when we get back to Toronto."

"We were there before."

"Yeah," William says, "and it was really nice. It was really, really nice. But everyone's going to be coming back into town in a few weeks and then everything's going to start again."

Kyle nods. He looks down at the dock and says, "August is almost over."

"Yeah."

He's still wearing his sunglasses. William left his in the cottage but Kyle still has his and it's hard to tell what he's thinking. After a minute, he says, "Do you want this to continue past the summer?"

"You and me?" William asks. "Yeah. Yes. Of course I do."

"Okay," Kyle says. His nose has gotten a little sunburnt and the tops of his cheeks as well. William wants to kiss the pink from them. "Even when everything else becomes real again?"

"Do you?" 

Kyle nods, slow, like he's really thinking about the answer. "Yes," he says. 

William leans forward until he can rest his head on Kyle's shoulder. His shoulder smells like him, like the lake and the pine needles and the musk of cottage clothes. Kyle's fingers come around his neck to hold him there and they stay, just like that, until the stars start to come out above their heads and the sun sets to the west over the tops of inky green tree. 

Kyle stands up first, with their dinner plates, and puts a hand out to help William up.

There was a moment, on the drive up. They were at a part of the journey that looked a lot like the all of the journey since they passed Parry Sound; red rock faces that towered above the passenger window and vast lakes and everywhere green, the dark green of pine and the flickering light green of birch trees in the wind. 

William asked, "How long? For you."

Kyle said, "I'm not sure. It was gradual, I think. The longer we got to know each other the more it seemed like maybe we did make sense, a little."

"For me it was right away," William said. "I had the stupidest crush on you."

"Well don't tell me that," Kyle said. "Because you were a baby, so."

"It's just the truth," William said. "I liked spending time with you."

Kyle didn't look away from the road. He said, "I liked spending time with you, too."

William washes their dinner dishes in the little kitchen, the sink plugged up with soapy water. He scrubs slowly, watching through the little window to see Kyle stacking firewood from the side of the cabin to the fire pit in the middle of the yard. He's put a sweater on now, a black hoodie with BROCK down one sleeve.

There's a small flame going by the time William dries his hands on the dish towel. He rolls thick socks over his jeans and covers his ears with a beanie before opening the squeaking hinge of the back door. Kyle looks up from his spot by the fire and watches as William drops into the lawn chair next to him. 

"You can just see the Big Dipper between those two trees," Kyle says, pointing. 

William shakes a beer out from the cooler and squints to see. "Huh. Neat."

"Alright," Kyle says, offended.

William laughs and they talk shop. Talk soccer and tennis and baseball, a little, and hockey, always, until the sky is dark and the fire has rich embers. 

"Come on," William says, when he's moved his chair as close to Kyle's as he can without them both collapsing. His eyes are hazy from looking into the orange of the fire. "A little general manager gossip. What's the scoop, who's asking for what? I won't tell, I promise."

"You're a menace," Kyle says but he keeps holding William's hand. 

"I'll tell you the hot goss from Zach's wedding," he says. "Two words: three-some."

"That's definitely one word," Kyle says. 

William hides his face behind Kyle's shoulder, nose in the folds of his hoodie where it smells like fire and bug repellent, and says, "Nerd."

Kyle pops back inside while William sets off along the tree line looking for marshmallow roasting sticks. He finds two that are perfect, long but thick enough to support the weight of a drooping, sweating marshmallow. He looks up to watch Kyle come back with a bag and a box of family digestive cookies. 

"I can't be patient with these," Kyle says, forty-five seconds into roasting. "I just want to watch it catch on fire."

William is crouched down low, to get at the hot embers along the edge of the fire. "S'mores are all about technique, man. I once went camping in Wisconsin with Schmaltzy's family so I'm basically an expert."

"Uh huh," Kyle says. His marshmallow is on fire and he puffs up his cheeks to blow it out into a smouldering, black mass. "I just cannot be bothered. Fuck the marshmallow process, or whatever."

They eat their s'mores side by side. The chocolate from the digestives drip all over William's fingers and he sucks them clean, tasting pine needle and campfire and bug spray over everything else. Kyle stands up to rearrange the fire, using these thick metal tongs to move wood around. 

He returns with a sigh.  William can feel his own cheeks pink from the fire and the beer and Kyle's hand on his knee, comfortable and easy as his glasses glint in the firelight.

"You know what?" Kyle says, after a minute. 

William looks toward him. Everything's a bit warm around the edges. He puts his hand over Kyle's on his knee and says, "What?"

"I think we're going to be really great," he says. "You and me."

The sparks from the fire leap upward like they're trying to join the stars up above, the wild endless stars that stretch across the sky as if in a sigh. The forest smells damp and cool around them, alive, and seems to take a deep breath as William does. 

"We're going to be amazing," William says. 

**Author's Note:**

> i can be found [here](https://butternutstyles.tumblr.com/).


End file.
